George Carlin Got Stuck On The Roof

George Carlin once said: “Frisbeetarianism is the belief that when you die, your soul goes up on the roof and gets stuck.” Well, Georgie is stuck on the roof now — the comedian, wordsmith, and all-around force-to-be-reckoned-with died on Sunday of heart failure. He was just 71.

I can barely express how sad this makes me. I’ve been a Carlin fan for a long time, something I probably picked up from my parents. I’ve read his books, listened to (and owned) his records, followed his comments in the media, and admired his shining intelligence for years. Growing up idolizing Lenny Bruce, Carlin, from an early age, recognized both the importance of words and the freedom to use them. Every kid knows his “7 Words You Can’t Say on TV” speech, and more than you think realize that he’s not just talking about cursing, he’s talking about talking. George knew that when you start to take words away from people — when you begin to label them, arbitrarily, as “bad” — then you start to take away their freedom. And having seen what happened to his idol when they took away his words (which is to say, the complete destruction of Lenny Bruce’s soul, and then his life), he undertook it as his duty to protect them.

Carlin has remained a hilarious, but poignant, champion of freedom of speech through his entire career. More than that, he has reminded us of why we care so much about storytelling — his carefully crafted comic capers were as glorious as any part of America’s rich and storied oral tradition. He spoke to the audience like they were his friends, and they were in many ways. He kept us sane through political, social and personal upheaval. He will be deeply, deeply missed.

–Sara

Why Did I Even Bother Trying to Watch MTV Tonight?

I want to say first that I didn’t intend to watch MTV at all tonight. I watched “O Brother Where Art Thou,” and when that ended an episode of Iron Chef America I’d recorded. When that was done, the TV was somehow already on MTV; honestly, I’m not sure how. Apparently I blacked out an earlier flirtation with the channel. (Oh my god, the TV’s still on, and there are so many more things to say with each passing moment of MTV programming).

I know why I kept watching: Tom Cruise was tongue-bathing Adam Sandler as part of the MTV Movie Awards, perhaps the most dubious awards on the planet, gearing up for what was obviously some sort of commermerative award since the last awesome thing Sandler was in was “Punch Drunk Love.” But watching Tom Cruise so earnestly profess his love for Sandler and tell a clearly-pre-written about Sandler being the one to tell him to dance in his undies in “Risky Business” was hypnotic. Oh, who am I kidding, Tom Cruise is always hypnotic. The bubbling magma-esque layer of crazy is so close to the surface that, under the amiable sparkle of his comedy routine, you can see it trying to get out. I watch to see if he can keep it in check.